


Nothing Hard About It

by yespolkadot_kitty



Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: M/M, Swear Words, a hint of smut if you squint, just fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-06
Updated: 2020-06-06
Packaged: 2021-03-03 20:28:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 560
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24571564
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yespolkadot_kitty/pseuds/yespolkadot_kitty
Summary: Just some musing about Jaskier's shapely ass from Geralt's POV. Written for a Tumblr writing challenge.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Comments: 8
Kudos: 147





	Nothing Hard About It

“If I die, I’m haunting you first,” Jaskier grumbled.

Geralt threw a look over his shoulder. “You won’t die.”

Jaskier sighed as he contemplated the deep hole before him, the entrance covered in spider webs and old, knotted branch stumps. “You should be thankful that I keep myself this slender.”

It was bollock and they both knew it. Jaskier had plenty of muscle, but the lean kind, rather than broad and bulky like Geralt.

“Get in, get the root, get out,” Geralt groused. “Nothing hard about it.”

Jaskier muttered something that sounded like _aside from your bloody hard head_ and started to wriggle into the hole.

Geralt watched the fabric of the bard’s breeches draw tight over his ass and tried to remain uninterested, but the truth was, he and Jaskier had spent so long travelling together that they’d started to know each other inside out. And with that knowing came intimacy, whether they wanted it or not.

At this point, Geralt was starting to think he wanted it.

Wanted Jaskier’s skilled, callused hands, wanted to hear his moans.

And he was fairly certain that Jaskier wanted that, too.

The bard grunted as he got stuck a little, and Geralt was reminded that they needed to find some taproot to ward off wendigos before they travelled any further. The beasts were known to abound in this woodland, but the smell of taproot acted as a natural deterrent to them, which would help Geralt and Jaskier reach the other side where a big tavern and soft beds awaited.

And women would who share the bounty of their bodies for coin.

Geralt kept telling himself he was excited about that, but the more he watched the bard’s shapely arse wriggle about in the hollow, the less he believed himself.

_Nothing hard about it._ There would be if he kept his gaze on Jaskier’s wiggly like arse. How it might feel under his hands. 

Whether he’d fit...It’d be tight, for sure-

“It’s darker tha….. Witch’s cunt….. Here,” Jaskier could be heard saying from somewhere below the soil. “I think….. C’mon…..little bugger…..”

All went silent for a moment. The birds sang in the trees and Roach idly hoofed at the ground, snorting.

“Geralt!” Jaskier’s shout from inside the hollow broke the peaceful quiet. “Pull!!!”

Geralt set to the task, grabbing Jaskier’s calves and yanking with all his might. The bard popped out, a bulbous taproot clutched in his arms, little scratches on his comely face. “Fucking bloodsuckers,” he groused, lying on his back. Bat-like creatures lived underground in this part of the world, and would attempt to feed on anything they came into contact with.

“Jaskier, you’re okay,” Geralt breathed, trying to keep his voice emotionless. “No need to haunt me, after all.”

“I may still die from my wounds,” Jaskier bemoaned, struggling to his feet. “You would have to write a tribute ballad to me. Or, on second thought - I’d better stay alive. Can you imagine how I would turn in my grave if you turned out to be more popular than me?”

Geralt rolled his eyes, thankful for now that the bard’s jabbering took his mind off lusting after the leaner man. 

Jaskier didn’t need to die to haunt him. He haunted Geralt all day, every day already anyway.

The worst thing was, that the big Witcher didn’t really mind.


End file.
